Wild Love (Campus Nights Book 4)

by Rebecca Jenshak

  “Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Right. Oh my gosh. I’m Anika. I live in the apartment next door.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I open the door wider. “This is my friend Dakota’s place. She lets me hang out and annoy her. I’m on the eleventh.”

  Dakota walks toward us and waves. “Hi.”

  “I’m sorry to have interrupted,” Anika says as she returns the wave and takes a step back. “Have a good night.”

  “You too.”

  After I shut the door, Dakota giggles and takes the food from me. “You have fans.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll always be my favorite.”

  I hop back to the living room and sit down. Dakota gets everything else, bossing me around and insisting I sit still while she plates our food and brings it to me.

  She eats with one hand, messing around with her phone with the other.

  “Are you going to work all night?”

  “I’m not working.” She sets her phone down. “I’m signing up for a new dating app.”

  “I thought we agreed those were trash.”

  “This one is for people serious about dating and not just looking for hookups.”

  “So, it’s for old people?”

  She glares.

  “Let me see.” I beckon with one hand. “I can help.”

  “You said you don’t do dating apps.”

  “I don’t, but I still know what dudes like.”

  With a sigh, she hands over her phone and then comes to sit next to me. She hovers, crowding my space as I tap out answers and write a bio.

  I had good intentions when I offered to help, but when she’s this close, I remember how much I want her and decide to fuck with her instead.

  “Granny panties? You said I wear granny panties?” She tries to get her phone, but I turn and hold it out of reach.

  “People in serious relationships want this. Trust me. Thongs scream hookup.”

  “I trust you to know jack about serious relationships.” She climbs over me. Her hair falls over my shoulder, and her face is so close to mine. I stop messing with her and turn to hand it back, but her lips are shiny and right fucking there.

  I wanted to kiss her long before last night but since then it’s all I can think about. And the way she hesitates, gaze dropping to my mouth before she snatches her phone… I’m pretty sure she’s thinking about it too.

  We settle back in our spots—me on the couch and her in the chair.

  I’m lost in fantasies where she tosses the phone down and begs me to kiss her. I guarantee I’m a better option than whoever she’s going to find online. Fuck that noise.

  “You should ask out Anika,” she says without looking up. It takes me a few seconds to remember who she’s talking about.

  “Your neighbor?”

  “Yeah, why not? She was pretty and seemed nice.”

  “I know you think I pursue every chick that meets that criteria, but I do have some restraint.”

  She raises both brows and smirks at me before going back to her phone.

  “I should head up to my place.”

  “Why?”

  “Umm, because that’s where I live. Unless you’ve decided you want to be roomies?”

  “You’re welcome to sleep on the couch as long as you want, Mav.”

  “I knew you didn’t want to get rid of me. So… roomies?”

  She bites on her bottom lip. “Are you planning on hanging out at my place every night, regardless?”

  “Pretty much,” I say with a nod.

  “What about…” She stops herself and blushes.

  “What about what?”

  “Girls, Maverick. Are you going to be bringing random girls home?” The color in her cheeks creeps down her neck.

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. Not when I can spend the evenings with Dakota all to myself. I hold up my hand like I’m taking an oath. “I will not bring random girls back to the apartment.”

  “Then, yeah, might as well. I’ll feel less guilty if you can find someone to sublease this place.” With that, she stands and heads toward her room. “Does the spare room at your place have a locking door?” She grins playfully.

  “What’d I tell you, Kota.” I lie down and tuck an arm behind my head. “Not until you beg me.”

  The next morning when Dakota wakes up, I have Jack, Declan, and Leo over to help move her stuff upstairs.

  She comes out of her room wearing a big T-shirt, red hair all mussed, and sexy as hell. “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes,” Jack says, and his gaze drops to her long, toned legs.

  “I see you all continue to travel in a herd even after college.” She runs a hand over her bed head. “I’m going to need coffee. A lot of it.”

  “Already on it.” I pick up the tray and offer her a cup. Part of the deal for getting the guys to help was coffee. The other was agreeing to go to a party at Jack’s house next weekend—like a party is a real imposition. I think Jack just wanted to make sure I’d come and get to know some of the guys outside of workouts. That and he was probably hoping for another run-in with my hot new roommate.

  “What are you all doing here so early?” She looks at me. “We’re going to need some ground rules on acceptable times for your friends to come over.”

  “Don’t worry, babe. It’s a one-time occurrence and for a good cause. They’re moving you in with me.” I dangle a key card in front of her face and then put it on the counter.

  Jack picks up the chair in the living room, and Dec and Leo each grab an end of the couch. She watches them carry her mom’s furniture out of the apartment with a sleepy, dazed look.

  “What is up with you this morning?” I ask. “You’re usually all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed first thing.”

  “I didn’t sleep well.”

  “No? That sucks.” I lean against one crutch. “Everything okay?”

  Her blue eyes lift to mine, then drop to take in my bare chest. I fight off a smile. Ah, shit. No way. Is that guilt? Embarrassment? This is awesome.

  “You dreamed about me, didn’t you?”

  Her face flushes. “No, of course not. No. Absolutely not.”

  “You’re a shit liar, Kota.” I let the smile break free.

  She rolls her eyes. “And if I had, it would just be further proof that I need to get out and meet some new guys.”

  “I think the lady doth protest too much.”

  After we get Kota moved in, the guys take off, and then so does she to meet up with some of the other interns for brunch. I’m on the third day of sitting on my ass, and I am booooored. I don’t like being alone. It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection between how much time I spent by myself as a kid and my need for people and attention as an adult.

  I flip through the channels, take Charli for a short walk, text the guys to see if anyone’s up for some video games. Everyone’s busy except ol’ Mav.

  Scrolling through my contacts, I decide to call my mom. She probably won’t answer, but at least I can leave a message. It’s been a while since I’ve checked in. I move to Kota’s pink couch and lie down, staring up at the ceiling as it rings.

  “Hello?” my mother’s voice answers from the other end. I love how she always answers like she doesn’t know it’s me calling.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Johnny. Oh, I’ve been meaning to call you.”

  “You have? I thought you were in Italy. I was expecting to get your voice mail.”

  “I am. Doris and I are outside of the restaurant waiting for a table for dinner, but I talked to your father yesterday, and he said you had some sort of injury. I assume you’re calling to get the name of some doctors to get a second opinion?”

  “No. I just wanted to catch up and see how you’re enjoying Italy.”

  “Nonsense. We have some great contacts in the city.”

  “I’ve got it under control, really. Dr. Anderson is great, and we did get a second opinion just in case.” I
shift on the couch and extend my leg out to elevate it like I was instructed. “How’s Italy? How much longer are you there?”

  She doesn’t answer right away, and I can hear her talking to someone else in the background in Italian.

  “Sorry, Johnny,” she says when she’s turned her attention back to me. “Our table is ready. I’ll have my assistant send you a list of top doctors. Tell them who you are and that if necessary, your dad and I will fly them to you.”

  There’s zero chance I’m doing any of that, but I understand that it’s just her way of showing she cares. Time and attention aren’t on the table, but money and resources they’re happy to share.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Love you, honey. I’ll call when I get back to Chicago.”

  She hangs up before I can say it back.

  I toss the phone to the end of the couch and then reach down to the floor to pick up Charli and place her on my chest.

  “Love you too,” I say quietly.

  Charli licks my face.

  “What are we gonna do, girl?”

  She licks again in response, eliciting a chuckle from me.

  The TV is on as background noise. My stomach growls, but I don’t feel like moving. I must fall asleep because the next thing I know, Dakota is standing in front of me with an amused smile.

  “If you think the couch is so uncomfortable, then why do you keep sleeping on it?” She dangles a bag in front of my face.

  I sit up, and the smell of something greasy and fried hits my nose. My mouth waters. “What is this?”

  “It’s lunch.” She drops it in my hands and then goes to the kitchen and gets a cold ice pack, and swaps it out with the warm one on my knee. “Is that okay? Do you need anything else?”

  She takes a seat on the chair, kicks off her shoes, and pulls her feet up under her. Her brows pinch together. “Maverick?”

  The concern in her tone snaps me out of it. “Sorry. What?”

  “Are you okay? You look a little pale?”

  “Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Perfect.”

  She keeps staring at me. My chest tightens, and I’m struggling to come up with something funny or teasing to reassure her I’m fine. I am fine, but I’m caught off guard that she thought of me while she was gone, that it occurred to her that I might want something to eat. It’s dumb, really.

  “You brought me food.”

  “Yeaaah,” she says, slowly drawing out the word. “I thought you might be hungry. No biggie, if you’re not. It’s grilled chicken and sweet potato fries. I know sweet potato fries aren’t healthy, but—”

  “Thank you,” I interrupt her, and my voice cracks, so I clear it again.

  She hits me with a smile that chases away the loneliness. “Welcome.”

  18

  Dakota

  I throw myself into my new job and ease into living with Johnny. He made room in the living room for my furniture, which we never use, but I love seeing it every day.

  Another thing I love seeing every day? Johnny, shirtless. I know, I know. I hate myself a little for admitting it even to myself.

  But I’m going on a date tonight with a guy I met online. Marco is twenty-three and a grad student at UMN. He seems nice, and he’s cute-ish. I’m not sure he’s my soul mate, our conversations so far have been stilted and a little awkward, but I’m holding out hope that we’re better in person. And even if it’s a total waste, hopefully, it’ll clear my mind so I stop having dirty fantasies about my new hot roommate.

  Dressed and ready for work, I walk out of my room to find Johnny three feet away doing pull-ups in the doorway of his room. He put up some adjustable bar, and, wow, his back is impressive.

  “Morning,” he chirps as he continues to lower and lift his body.

  I force my gaze down and mutter the greeting back.

  “Smoothie is on the counter.”

  “You’re too good to me.” I pick it up and take a drink. He has really improved on my morning drink, and it tastes even better when I don’t have to make it.

  He joins me in the kitchen, hopping around on one foot.

  “Where are your crutches?”

  “My bedroom, I think. I don’t know. I’m good.”

  I shake my head and move closer to him so he can lean on me. “When do you go back to the doctor?”

  “Today, actually.”

  “You didn’t say anything. Do you need me to drive you?”

  He grins. “Nah, I’m good. Though I do like when you go all mama bear on me.”

  I roll my eyes. “You really make a girl regret being nice.”

  He chuckles.

  Before I leave, I find his crutches in the living room and hand them over. “Later, loser.”

  At work, I spend the day running errands for Blythe with Quinn and Reese. There are a million things to do in preparation for camp, which starts next week. There are goody bags to put together, signage to hang, setting up rooms, and finalizing schedules. So many schedules.

  By the time we’re finished, I am so ready for a chill night in, but I go home and get ready for my date with Marco. I text the girls to calm my nerves while I wait.

  Ginny: What’s he look like? What’s he do?

  Reagan: What are you wearing?

  Sienna: Where’s he taking you?

  Their rapid-fire questions make me even more nervous. Marco said he’d text after he got out of class and was on his way. We’re meeting at a bar not far from the apartment. I wanted to be close enough that I could walk or Uber home if it’s late but far enough away that I wouldn’t have to worry about Johnny and his teammates stopping in and embarrassing me with their ridiculousness.

  Two nights ago, Marco and I were having our first phone conversation after exchanging a few texts. Jack and Declan stopped by the apartment to see Maverick—they’ve been checking in on him almost every day. Anyway, they must have read it on my face that I was talking to a boy because they proceeded to yell out things like, “Honey, come back to bed.” until I locked myself in my bedroom. I’m not sure what their plan was. They probably don’t know either. Ridiculousness.

  Right now, I could use a dose of Maverick’s ridiculousness, though. He isn’t home, and, holy crap, I am so nervous I can’t stop the butterflies in my stomach. He always knows what to say to take my mind off things. I respond to the girls and then text Johnny to see how his appointment with the doctor went.

  Maverick: Good. I’m at Wild’s. Come hang out?

  I hold off another five minutes waiting for Marco, then say screw it, grab my purse and say goodbye to Charli. I can leave from Wild’s when Marco is close.

  I find them on the far side of the bar, Jack and Johnny. Johnny swivels on the stool when he spots me and hops down. His big grin makes my insides mushy. He wraps me up in his arms and pulls me to his chest. “You made it! What are you having? I’m buying.”

  I’m temporarily too distracted by him to speak. Listen, Johnny Maverick is a good-looking guy. My not wanting to hook up with him has absolutely nothing to do with how he looks. From his dark hair to his smile to the tattoos… oh the tattoos. He’s chef’s kiss perfection if we’re going just by the hot scale. I couldn’t build a better guy.

  He’s fuck hot to steal his phrase, but he doesn’t take anything seriously. To him, sex is just an activity like watching TV or dancing—who he does it with doesn’t matter as much as the activity itself. I want more than that. I want the sex, but the who matters to me.

  Tonight, though, sigh, tonight he is in dress pants and a black collared shirt. The sleeves squeeze his biceps and show off some of the ink, and his hair has gel in it. He’s dressed up and not in his usual jeans and a plain T-shirt, or honestly, more often than not, no shirt at all.

  “I can’t stay,” I say when I find my voice.

  “Woman, if you go back to that apartment, I will follow you and drag you out. We need a night out.”

  It suddenly dawns on me. “Where are your crutches?”

  He rais
es his arms to his side. “I’m good to go.” He rocks his head side to side. “Dr. Anderson says I’ll be ready for camp.”

  “Mav, that’s great news.”

  “I know. Now, what are you having? Champagne? I want to celebrate.”

  “I really can’t.”

  “What, do you have a hot date or something?” Jack asks.

  “Actually, yes. I’m going out with Marco.”

  “The guy you met on Hinge?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t like it,” Mav says.

  “Well, too damn bad.” I laugh, nerves breaking.

  “You don’t know anything about the guy. What if he’s a creep?”

  “I can handle myself.”

  He tips his chin up and looks down at me. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  “Share your location with me.”

  “What?”

  “I promise I won’t use it unless you don’t come home or answer later.”

  I’m quiet as I consider it.

  “What would Reagan say? Should I text her and see?”

  “Ugh. Fine. But I swear if you show up—”

  He holds up his hands. “I won’t.”

  I look to Jack.

  “No promises here,” he says.

  Johnny leans against the bar. “Is this what you’re wearing?”

  “Yeah. Why?” Maverick has me second-guessing the navy skirt and white tank top I’m wearing. “I want him to know I tried, but not too hard.”

  “You look perfect.”

  I can tell he’s holding something back. “What is it? Just tell me. I still have time to change if needed.”

  “Nothing, honest. You look gorgeous. I’m just glad it isn’t the black dress is all.”

  “What black dress?”

  “The one you wore to the Frozen Four party. Short, straps cross in the back.” The idea that he knows my wardrobe shoots a zap of excitement through me.

  “I don’t even want to know how you remember that.”

  “Babe, that dress.” He places his hands together, fingertips touching his lips. “That fucking dress.” He groans.